Trials
by N-I-N-T
Summary: Claire can't catch a break; it seems no matter where she goes, trouble follows her. The Redfield curse, or is there something much more malicious at work behind the scenes? When she thought life would finally proceed as normal, she found herself and her friends in another hellish situation, digging for answers about their past and future. Future ClairexLeon, SherryxJake, JillxChris


Trials

Genre: Adventure/Horror

Sub-genre: Drama/tragedy (Soommmee Romance? That one's really up in the air atm)

Rating: T (To be fair... it is a RE fic, so this might go up.)

 **June 6, 2014**

 _"It's more reliable than any person."_

Claire found herself muttering these very words to Moira Burton at the detention facility on an unmarked island, the same words Steve Burnside muttered to her so many years ago on Rockfort Island.

Back then, Claire thought Steve had been crazy, relying on a weapon more than a person; then again, this was before... _everything else_.

 _The incident in Spain, the Harvardville incident, the destruction of Umbrella, the betrayed of Tricell, the terrible outbreak in China—the T, Veronica, G, and C viruses._ and that was only recalling a few. The death of the president of the United States, the constant threat of bio-terrorism that, in 1998 when this all began, seemed like something from a book of supernatural tales, was a constant reminder in every human's brain. It wasn't a big secret anymore, the terror didn't end at Raccoon City, it couldn't have—that would have been too _easy_.

Claire twirled her pen in her short, auburn hair while she slumped her shoulders, listening to the vice president and CEO of TerraSave talk over the new direction that they would be taking after the devastating betrayal of one Neil Fisher that resulted in the death of multiple TerraSave employees, and heavily damaged their credibility.

That was some five years ago already, yet, here they sat, still trying to repair the damage.

Sometimes, during the days when TerraSave operatives would spend more time wondering how to save their own foundation than how to save other people, Claire liked to flirt with the idea of joining her brother in the BSAA, maybe even the federal government along side Sherry Birkin and Leon Kennedy. They seemed to help more in a day, than she did in a year. In fact, a small part of her wished to follow Moira to university, where the younger girl clearly said her infatuation with crime fighting was _so_ _fucking over_ after spending six months on some _shitty_ island. Moira never trusted TerraSave again, and Claire could not blame her—the youngest Redfield hardly trusted them herself. What good was a company that couldn't prevent something as heinous as what Neil did?

 _More reliable than any person_ seemed to fit perfectly in her situation. She trusted Neil, he betrayed her. She trusted Gabe, and Pedro, and they all died. They weren't evil, but they couldn't make it. That was on Claire now, her already heavy conscious. People were, unfortunately, not reliable—and she was wondering if the company she sunk her teeth into reflected that same perception. _Unreliable._

Once more, her blue eyes returned to the front of the room where the CEO took a seat at the end of the long, smooth oak table and clasped his hands over the papers before him before looking at each board member. There were six in total—there was twelve originally, but over the last five years, they've seen a decrease in workers and interested-and _need_ for the TerraSave organization. They helped clean up after the outbreak of the C-virus, but that didn't bring back their good name once the media ripped into them about the list they created of possible candidates to bring back connections to Umbrella through the revival of obtaining a copy of Uroboros. Regardless of what Neil's intentions were, when he screwed over Claire, he screwed over TerraSave, too.

"Does anyone have anything else they would like to add?" The CEO asked, looking at each person individually. Since Fisher's disposal, Claire took his spot as lead executive of the southern branch of TerraSave operations, so when his eyes stopped on her—truly, the only woman sitting in the rule with _real_ bioterrorism experience-the CEO obviously expected a rise from the Redfield, but she stared on blankly.

"Then this meeting is adjured. Return to your proper procedures."

When the older man's voice bellowed out the command, Claire scooped together her documents and slipped them into a brief case that only carried her lunch—a mix of diced apples and a crushed sandwich, and moved to leave the multipurpose room and follow her bustling colleagues. Claire had a little over six hours before her plane would return her to the southern institution. Once there, she could return to making amends with locals and piecing back the strong reputation that TerraSave once had. However, that meant that she only had three hours to relax. Cracking her neck side to side, she figured that maybe she could call her brother, or some old friends-

-"Wait, Redfield. A moment please." her boss interjected smoothly. His voice was grim with age, but the spark of hope in his eyes never dissipated.

With her thoughts derailed, she turned quickly to face the older man whose balding hair gleamed under the bright light of the office, and she squint at him. While he gestured to her to take a seat, Claire stifled a sigh.

"Yes, sir?" She asked honestly, hiding her immediate frustration with a learned patience.

"You seemed distant today, I wanted to ask how everything is going at the southern branch?"

Claire's shoulders shrugged. "It could be worse, we could be getting kidnapped." she said with a small lace of humor behind her words. He scowled in return.

"You know, we're working to rebuild our name in this country and others, I need to know that you're not losing sight of the big picture because of some... unfortunate events."

U _nfortunate events? You don't know the half of it_. Claire thought with a bitter tone that surprised even herself. She straightened her red jacket and shook her head briefly.

"No, sir." she said calmly. "I'm trying my hardest to bring people back into Terrasave, but as you can imagine; not everyone trusts us."

"Perhaps that is because you don't trust other people." He said quickly, his keen eyes catching onto her cold exterior. Instinctively, she flinched, but then smacked her lips and smiled her traditional Redfield smile, the same one that Chris used to end the most prominent of arguments.

"I'm just trying to fix things one day at a time, rebuilding will take time and I _do_ have our best intentions at heart." She addressed flatly, but he could see the gun holstered beneath her jacket, and sighed.

"If you say so." He muttered, rubbing his freckled and aged chin with his thumb. He sat backwards, taking a long look at Claire and barely shook his head. "You're too young to take yourself so seriously."

To that, she did not have to reply, it wasn't in her jurisdiction, and so instead, she nodded curtly, and then turned away from him without missing a beat. Without missing a single step, she threw open the door and exited with a brief goodbye. Her co-workers had already taken the elevator down, and since she was not inclined to wait for the object to reach the first floor from the eighth, she started her descent down the carpeted stairs, instead.

Too young? she scoffed tiredly. Claire Redfield was thirty-five, she was not the young, bright eyed woman she started as in the beginning. Long were her days of chasing dreams in an English-literature college, motorcycle rallies and the long, open roads of a free and innocent life.

In the echo of the stairwell, she could hear the chatter of the people around her as she found her way down the long, dark steps, listening to the voices of the main TerraSave branch employees. Gossip around the break room which echoed into the stairs, that affair happening in the printer room indicated by a constant thump against the wall. The crying little girl who was listening to a friendly woman explain why she was taken from her home—and overall, the terror filled in the heart of every American and ally to the United States, that Bio Terrorism could hurt, then destroy _everything._ Things hadn't been the same after the last attack, and Claire wasn't sure they ever would be again.

People on the streets were checked at every market entrance, at every school, and every university, anywhere people gathered. Anyone of suspicion was being interviewed and thrown in prison for questioning without trial. Since the C-Virus incident, people weren't taking anymore chances, so brutality was starting to become accepted. Adults taught their children gun safety. The government was determined to find the people who leaked the virus to other nations, and they were going to end them. It was only a matter of time.

This was the same progress that her brother, Chris Redfield, and her brother's companion and close-friend, Jill Valentine, were hard at work on. While Chris worked in the field, bringing justice and creating surveillance for the BSAA, Jill moved up the ladder and procured a position in handling the misuse of viral weapons and terrorism. She was, essentially, the woman behind analyzing who was crooked, and who was not.

Since their combined efforts, Jill and Chris had managed to find, and remove over a dozen international threats. After Chris' brief repertoire with post traumatic stress disorder, that he was now, luckily, in therapy for, he once again became the captain of several operating teams, and was in control of training new BSAA operatives in surviving bio terrorism. Since its start in 2003, the BSAA was now one of the largest non-government issued defense against terrorism that the world had ever seen, branching off in all seven continents, and creating safe zones for even the worst parts of the world.

The people, civilians funded BSAA, and in return, they saved the people. The BSAA funded scientists who created anti-virus for the terrible creations of Umbrella and all the branches after it, and helped bring justice to the world. Since the BSAA started working over time, TerraSave was becoming a distant part of the past. At times, the CEO and owner of TerraSave even talked about joining the BSAA and dissolving their individuality so they can help even more people. While BSAA and the government were working non-stop to not _only_ defend against terrorism, they were also saving people. TerraSave only saved and rehoused civilians injured-and _apparently_ even that had been tampered with.

 _Thanks, Neil._ Claire thought viciously.

Claire wasn't against the idea of combining their efforts with the BSAA, unfortunately, the other five board members were. Something about putting all of their eggs in one basket—if the BSAA became too powerful, they could easily become as corrupt as Umbrella had been.

It wasn't a flawed logic, but with Jill and Chris both highly secured in the operation, as well as several other good-nature individuals that Claire had the opportunity to meet during holidays with her brother, she doubted if the BSAA _could_ become corrupt. They were doing more good for the world by being both aggressive, and passive, than TerraSave had.

Claire blinked a few times to clear her mind, reaching the final steps without thinking about it. her thoughts were momentarily derailed by what she thought was a terrifying scream. However, while she shook her head, she assumed it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. She stared at the exit door to the stairway, and her mind rushed back to the crashing waves over her body while the experience of nearly drowning washed through her veins rapidly. She, too, had been through more than most people thankfully ever would, and left unscathed in comparison; yet, in comparison to all her comrades, she was the only one still grasping onto an idea that _she_ no longer believed in: _people were still reliable._..

No, people were not reliable, family and friends were reliable, other individuals who went through the same hell, were _reliable_ , but even that had its limits. Chris, Jill, Rebecca, Barry, Leon, Sherry and even Jake already knew for years what Claire was just catching up on.

 _Guns, herself, and determination,_ were the most reliable part of any situation.

She wanted to help people—but how could she, if they wouldn't help themselves? Telling children that the monsters wouldn't get them no longer held a cry of honesty. At any time, holders of the virus could go crazy, and launch a massive nuke that would destroy all mankind, _easily_. What was stopping terrorist from flipping a switch and turning the whole world into a mess of grotesque, flesh eating monsters? Wesker had almost succeeded with it.

Her face scrunched up uncomfortably as the thought penetrated her mind. TerraSave 'saved' people. But, where was safe? People were being taken from their homes from the very beginning to be experimented on, their very own president could be killed and people could still be blackmailed. Natalia, someone who was re-housed by TerraSave had been kidnapped from her home, and the list continued. Where did danger end and safe begin?

Breathing hoarsely, she grabbed her chest and rubbed where her heart was. After being infected with that fear induced virus, she never felt the same. Jill had once complained that once she had been healed of the T-virus, she never felt the same, either. Moira and Sherry said they didn't notice the difference. Quite possibly, it was all in her head, but Claire knew. Something foreign and _wrong_ had been inside her, threatening to kill her if she so much as screamed in terror. That emotion, _fear_ , she could no longer rely on it. In fact, she _feared_ it.

 _Thump thump_.

The door in front of her creaked under pressure, and instinctively, her fingers laced around her holstered weapon beneath her jacket. She unclasped the latch, and then lumbered forward to snatch the door handle.

She threw it open, startling a young couple who had used the corridor as a make-out section of the building, and smacked her lips together; she held her custom made handgun close to her head, and shifted her weight to one foot as the young couple glared up at her in pure fright.

"Find somewhere else, would you? This is a unionized building. I will have you thrown out." Claire whispered with no humor and then when they scattered, she followed them out only far enough to re-holster her weapon. As they ran away, the blonde female grasped the hand of her lover, and Claire let out a long, breathy sigh.

 _So carefree, so young._ Claire snarled quietly, then gently berated herself for thinking such bitter thoughts as she grabbed her cellphone from her back pocket while thumbing through her numbers.

She might have been _a little_ envious. She had been robbed of a normal life thanks to Umbrella, many people lost their lives thanks to same situation—so who was she to complain? It didn't stop her, though, she made her way from the corridor, to the parking garage in a little under two minutes. Her heels clacked against the concrete, creating an echo through the paved world. A part of her still _hated_ the confined area of a parking garage. Enclosed spaces with no immediate exit made for _terrible_ escape routes. If something happened, she would have to either go up through the building above, or out the shutter, which would no doubt lead onto a street _swarmed_ with zombies; worse yet, into civilians she would likely have to try to save, only to watch them get picked off one by one, thanks to their inability to _cope._

With a loud sigh, she shook the thoughts from her head. She fought constantly with the idea that any second she could be trapped in another horror film. While it kept her mind occupied for hours, the effects it was having on her were starting to weigh her down. Sleepless nights and coffee breaks were the replacement of her college parties and motorcycle rallies. Not only had Umbrella robbed her of a normal life, it robbed her of a part of herself she would _never_ get back.

Grumpily, she looked on at her practical, red impala and grimaced. She swore to herself when she was a teenager that she would _never_ own a car before she was fifty unless she had kids—now look at her: her boss was right, she was a thirty-five year old going on eighty.

Skillfully, she maneuvered through a set of gray vehicles to reach her own, keeping her trained eye on anything suspicious while her familiar tap escalated loudly. The dim lights overhead offered only the minimalist of view in respect to the rest of the garage while she fumbled for her keys in her black slack pockets. She hated wearing anything other than jeans, but high-level meetings required her to look nice.

Gone were the days of biker shorts and leather vests; here were the days of looking professional and decent in front of the masses that _needed_ TerraSave's protection. She needed to look the part.

 _Scccrrreech_.

Adapted to odd sounds, she twisted her head to the noise that echoed around her; heavy metal on concrete was something she was all too familiar with now. If she learned one thing, it was to never stop walking; _keep all senses alert, but reach the goal._

She stopped at the driver's side of her car where she saw a group of construction workers carrying a few bars of metal shingles across the floor while swearing at one another. When they caught the image of Claire standing at her car door, watching them keenly, they waved at her weakly, tossed a few apologies in her direction, and carried on.

Her heart rate dissolved, and she shook her head—she was being paranoid.

Unlocking her door with a button on her keys, she clicked the drivers door open, and slipped inside without checking for danger. A mistake only a rookie would make; she would later note. The sound of a gun cocked behind her, she froze, weighing her options.

"I thought you saw me, for a minute there..." The voice was deep, not unlike anything she had ever heard before, but the only thing she could see staring back at her in her rear view mirror was darkness. She felt the cold steel against the side of her head as the person jabbed her with the muzzle of the gun.

A low, menacing chortle left the intruders voice. "I didn't think you would slip up so carelessly, Redfield."

"Are you going to shoot me, or play games?" Claire snarled while her eyes squint, trying to think when the perpetrator could have gotten into her vehicle. It had to be someone trained to unlock a vehicle without setting off the most impressive alarm system. Unfortunately, she wasn't given any more time to disbar his voice from her memory, to think through her options because he spoke again, practically breathing down her neck.

"Oh, dear." He laughed, wiping his other hand around the side of her head rest and pressing a white, toxic cloth over her mouth. "I have much more thank _death_ in store for you..."

Claire fought it for a moment, tried not to breath, but within seconds, the chloroform soaked rag took over her senses, and she fell limp in the drivers seat without a peep of distress.

 **Author's Note** :

They're going to release Resident Evil 7 previews and expect me -not- to write something?

I haven't been in the fandom in awhile! I haven't read any fanfics, and I have no-idea what is out there anymore (so I, in turn, have no idea if something like this has been written), but here I am, writing anyways. Resident Evil 7 has been announced, and I missed my chance to jump on the Revelations 2 hype and Resident Evil 2 remake (MY FAVORITE) is supposed to be coming out so...

I AM JUMPING ON THIS HYPE.

Anyways, I started the story "Behind Blue Eyes" five years ago and hadn't intended on writing another RE story until I finished it, but unfortunately I may be placing it on permanent hiatus until I can do a complete revision. So, instead of trying to beat that dead horse; I'm going to start here.

Leave a review what you think about the new game, and this story. Be kind, it's been awhile.

I'm hoping to branch out and bring in other protagonists as well and create an all inclusive world building experience, but this is just the start, so...

NINT


End file.
